Boromir was their father's favorite, this Faramirhad always known,
how could it be otherwise with suchan elder son? Yet for all that he knew
right well hewas neither disregarded nor despised. Second toBoromir he
might be, yet still first before all otherthings - even the White City and
the realm itself.

'Your father loves you." Mithrandir had said,
andeven in his grief and hurt he had known it for truth -or would have
had he let himself.

'I should not have gone. Yes the attempt to
retakeOsgilliath was worth risking, we might have won timeif nothing
else, would have if not for those archers.Massed bows I never expected -
never have I seen sucha tactic from Orcs before, nor read of it
either.

'But I should not have let Father drive me awaywith bitter
words that he meant no more than I meantmy jibe that he had sent Boromir to
his death.

'Why did I say that? Why did he say what he did?Why did
we tear at each other in our grief rather thantrying to console?'

When did it go so wrong between them? It had notalways been so.
Looking back Faramir saw many goodtimes, that he hadn't remembered for
years, of thethree of them together in the chase, listening tomusic and
tales in the Hall, or simply talking lateinto the night over wine. Hours
alone with his fatherpouring eagerly over dusty scrolls and ancient
tomes,sharing their common love of learning. When had allthat changed -
and why?

Perhaps it was just the war; the burden of Gondorand the
nagging knowledge of her slow failing, and theterror of the Shadow in the
East, slowly crushing thespirit out of them all.

'No. Not all, not
Boromir. But we had not hiscourage, Father and I. We lost hope, lost
faith...losteach other.'

"Father!" the shadows shifted, the mists
rippled,but there came no answer. "Father!" Faramir shoutedagain, in
terror. No answer. Nor would there be,Denethor had not waited. He was gone,
this his sonsuddenly knew with absolute certainty.

He almost gave up
then, almost let the Darknesstake him, but there was still Gondor. With
Boromir andDenethor lost he was all their people had left - suchas he
was. He had to get back to them, at least hewould try as long as he had the
strength to strivewith the Shadow.

And strive he did. Against a power
beyond hisstrength, losing, always losing, but refusing tosurrender. He
was a soldier of Gondor, howeverreluctantly, and he would fight Gondor's
Enemy untilovercome by main force.

"Faramir!"

The shadows
trembled, the mists cringed. Faramirtoo trembled, though he knew not why.
"Father?"

"Faramir!"

No, not Denethor. His father had not the
power tomake the shadows part and the mists roll aside as theydid now
before him. Opening a road to a distant light,small and bright as a star. He
went towards it. Slowlyat first, a little afraid, than with growing
eagernessas the light neared and brightened.

Then the Shadows were
behind him and Faramir sawbefore him the likeness of a Man. Tall and
darkhaired, clad in shining garments with a star of livingFlame upon his
brow above eyes almost as silver-brightset in a face that might have graced
a statue in theHalls of the King.

Faramir knew at once upon whom he
looked and wasall but overcome by awe and wonder. The King held outhis
hand and, without hesitation, Faramir placed hisin it - and felt a warm,
very physical grip closearound his fingers.

He opened his eyes with a
gasp. He was in anunfamiliar room lit by hearth fire and a few
candles,smelling of soap and blood, and sounding with themoaning of Men
in pain and the soothing murmurs ofHealers and Nurses.

A Man sat by
his bed, one hand firmly clasped inhis. Tangled hair framed a face grained
with the grimeof battle and lined with weariness. His clothes wererough
and plain and he bore no sign of royalty savefor the ring on his finger and
the light shining inhis eyes.

Faramir looked upon the Mortal face of
his King andlost his heart to him forever. "My Lord, you calledme. I
come." he whispered weakly, in all the voice hecould manage. "What does the
King command?"

The King's smile transformed his sad, stern
facefilling it with a sudden, captivating warmth. "Thatyou rest, and
take food, and be ready when I call." heanswered, then rose and gently
disengaged his hand."Now I must go to others that need me but I
willreturn, my Steward."

Faramir watched him go, determined to regain
hisstrength quickly. For who would lie idle when theKing, especially
such a King as this, had returned atlast?

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